


waves

by zigsexual (anythingbutloud)



Series: the driam vignettes [2]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: M/M, and fleeting happy moments, whiskey there's a lot of whiskey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutloud/pseuds/zigsexual
Summary: when leo asked drake to come back for liam, this is probably not what he had in mind.





	waves

**Author's Note:**

> it’s driam vignettes part two! this covers the aftermath of the assassination attempt that spurred leo to get drake to drop out of college and stay in cordonia with liam. sometimes i remember that is a canon thing that happened and i want to die. anyway.

The door opens, and it’s Liam. Not as if Drake were expecting anything different, but _seeing_ him — hair a little out of place, pajamas on, the faint shadow across his jaw — it all comes rushing back and crashing into him like a riptide. He should’ve known that when it came to Liam, he’d lost his self-control years ago.

“Hi,” he says softly, feeling like a teenager all over again.

Liam stares at him, shocked. “Drake? Wh — how did —?”

“You needed me,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “So, I’m here.”

Liam is speechless, eyes raking over Drake in disbelief, mind clearly running through too many questions to put together anything coherent.  “You’re here,” He finally breathes, a note of wonder in his voice. He opens the door even wider, and Drake notices how he looks smaller — not in stature, but in spirit — and the worry-lines in his brow have deepened into creases that Drake desperately wishes he could smooth out.

“Yeah,” Drake manages, feeling something build in his throat that chokes out the rest of his words. Liam’s gaze washes over him, taking him in, pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

“How long?” he dares to ask, voice quiet. Drake has never seen him like this before, so dimmed down, like a flashlight flickering out.

“Forever,” he answers, blush rising in his cheeks already. Something about Liam makes him feel so utterly childish, like he’s fourteen and enraptured with first love; like doodles in notebook margins and notes passed in the hallways after class.

The look Liam gives him then is so shamelessly longing that he barely knows how to handle the way his body reacts. He’s sure that every part of him has turned red by now, warmth flooding his veins, rushing in his ears and drowning out every rational thought reminding him of who they are — of where they are — of what they can never be.

“Forever,” Liam repeats, as if trying to confirm it to himself as well. His eyes never sway from Drake’s. “Do you… will you come in?”

Drake nods, stepping through the doorway. He hasn’t been in Liam’s room for years, not since that one summer ( _Their Summer_ ), which — well. Neither had ever addressed it, and it wasn’t like they’d made some pact to stay away from each other in that way, but somehow in the years following he never crossed that threshold again. Perhaps for fear of what might happen if they left themselves too alone.

Liam watches him, still trancelike, eyes studying Drake as if he’s still not quite sure he’s real. He lets the door close slowly behind the two of them, lingering on the doorknob for a moment of hesitation before finally turning the lock.

Drake looks back at him. “You haven’t redecorated in a while.”

“Why are you here?” Liam asks, “ _How_ are you here?”

“I took a flight.”

“I’m _serious,_ Drake.”

Drake takes a deep breath. “I heard about what happened, with your family.”

Liam’s face changes at the words, shifting into a state of impenetrability that defies his usual cheerfulness. It hurts to watch. “It’s okay. Nobody was hurt, and Cordonia is strong.”

He sounds like a PR script. He sounds like… he sounds like his dad.

“It’s not okay,” Drake frowns, “I know it’s not, because I know _you_. Don’t give me that royal statement bullshit, I’m your _best friend_ , I know when you’re hurting.”

“I…” Liam’s expression wavers. “I’m fine.”

“You think I dropped college and flew all the way back to this place because you’re _fine_? You think Leo showed up at my dorm looking like an absolute mess to tell me _you’re fine_?”

“He did what?”

“He cares about you, you know, even though he has a funny way of showing it.” Drake takes a step forward, locking eyes with Liam. To his surprise, he doesn’t look away. “Or at least, he cares enough to get someone who really does.”

“Did he actually come to your dorm?”

“Yeah. Also I think he gave my RA his number.”

Liam almost manages a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry he did that, I’m sorry you came all this way, I…”

“Don’t be sorry. I wanted to.”

His façade finally cracks, lower lip quivering as he holds Drake’s gaze. “I’m so… I don’t know what to do, I —” He takes a ragged breath, attempting to compose himself, but only succeeds in breaking down the illusion even more. “I’m scared of losing them, Drake. I’m scared.”

Drake closes the distance between them, takes Liam’s hands in his. “Tell me.”

“It’s…” Liam looks down at their clasped hands, then back up to his face. “I can’t lose more people, I feel like if I do I’ll lose myself too.”

“Are you thinking about your mom?” Drake asks gently.

“I always do,” Liam answers, his face echoing the shadows of memories too painful to touch. “How can I not? She’s proof that they can take anyone if they want to. I can’t protect this country; I can’t protect my own _family_.”

“No one expects that of you, Liam.”

“But _I_ do.”

“Let someone else be strong for you. Let _me_.”

“I could never put that on you.”

Drake squeezes his hands. “I know. You’re too good for this place.”

Liam’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You think too highly of me.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

And there — something flickers in his face, something warm. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t put into words how lonely it was without you. I almost begged you to come back a hundred times, it was getting so hard to stop myself.”

“Good thing you did, because I’d never have been able to say no to you,” Drake says, suddenly bold. “You know I never could.”

The warmth in Liam’s face spreads to his cheeks, a blush settling across them at Drake’s words. Their almost-embrace feels tinged with electricity, the air between them charged. Liam’s eyes flicker down to their hands again, back up to his face. The silence stretches a beat too long.

“You make me feel…” Liam lets out a long breath. “I can’t think straight.”

“You don’t have to think with me,” Drake responds, “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to. I want…” He bites the corner of his lip. “I’ve thought about you being here so much. About what I would say, and what we would do, and I…”

“Tell me,” Drake drops Liam’s hands, stepping closer until the space between them is just an afterthought. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…”

“It’s just me.”

“That’s the hardest part. It’s just you. It’s always been just you.”

“Is that what you want?”

Drake feels the goosebumps spread on his skin as Liam looks at him, drinking him in like he’s been in the desert for days. He desperately wants to touch him, to hear the sounds Liam might make under his hands, to run his fingers over the muscles of his back and leave his own goosebumps in their wake. That feeling, the white-hot chill of it, leaves him both yearning and terrified.

“Can I kiss you?” Liam breathes, and Drake whispers, “Yeah.“

When their lips meet, it’s like they’re back on that beach all over again, alight with nervousness and longing and novelty, fumbling around feelings that are too strong to fully understand. It starts out soft, tentative, the two of them trying to find their way back to the familiarity of one another. Then Drake threads his hands in Liam’s hair, thumbs resting along his jaw, and his lips part just slightly like a question that Liam has been dying to answer.

Liam pulls him tighter, clutching him close, and Drake settles in against him like they’d never been apart. “I was hoping,” he breathes in-between their kisses, “I was hoping you still felt…”

“I never stopped.”

Liam kisses him like a culmination of every dream that weaved into his nights the past few years, every daydream that snuck into the moments in between. He feels like worship, like daybreak, like the shivers that run down your spine when someone whispers in your ear. And Liam is _there_ too, kissing along his neck, murmuring, “Stay with me,” his hands tugging on Drake’s collar and pushing aside the first button, the second.

The sound that Drake makes when Liam kisses along his collarbone is so embarrassing that he can’t keep himself from covering his mouth, even as Liam laughs against his skin.

“It’s okay,” he says, eyes damn near close to sparkling, “No one can hear us.”

“What would they be hearing?” Drake says, his breath hitching in his throat as Liam finishes with the buttons on his shirt and pushes the sleeves over his shoulders. Drake lets him, momentarily awestruck at the boy in front of him, trying to wrap his head around how this could possibly be real. Liam slides a hand down Drake’s side, fingers running along the exposed skin between his jeans and his t-shirt. Drake makes the sound again.

Liam smiles. “That.”

“Shut up,” Drake smiles back in spite of himself. “When did you get so handsy?”

“When you showed up at my bedroom door,” Liam answers, kissing him again. Drake’s eyes flicker closed, his heartbeat so loud he’s certain Liam can hear that, too. And maybe he doesn’t care — maybe he _wants_ Liam to hear it, wants Liam to know exactly how much he wants this. Exactly how much he wants  _them_.

“I…” he mumbles against Liam’s mouth, “Liam, I…”

Liam pulls back, gazing at him in awe, his hands resting on Drake’s shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re here. You have no idea…” His breath catches, and he looks suddenly as though he’s on the verge of tears. “Drake…”

There are so many unspoken words that linger in his pause. Drake wants to say all of them, let them flood the air around him and Liam until those words are the only thing left for them to breathe.

He pulls Liam back to him, lips parted, savoring the way he sighs into his mouth when they kiss. He feels drunk and heady and slow, but as Liam runs his fingers back along Drake’s waist, there’s an urgency that picks up between the two of them again. Liam tilts his head, leaning in against Drake’s forehead, his eyelashes brushing across the skin there. “Can I…?”

“Anything,” Drake answers, “Anything.”

They barely break apart enough for Liam to lift the hem of his shirt, Drake shrugging it over his head as Liam runs a hand along his back, tracing his shoulder blade down to his side. Drake bites his lip, watching Liam linger along the lines of his stomach with far more adoration than he deserves.

“You’re everything to me,” Liam finally says, locking eyes with his.

The way he looks at him — Drake feels lightheaded. Probably from all this forgetting to breathe. He tugs at Liam’s shirt too, pushing it up and over his head, Liam watching him the whole time with something desperately intense in his eyes.

And Liam doesn’t stop looking at him; doesn’t stop following the expression on his face as Drake splays a hand out over his chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath his fingers. Liam reaches up and folds his hand over Drake’s, and finally Drake dares to look back up at him, the electricity in his gaze like static, nearly palpable.

“Promise you’ll stay,” Liam twists their fingers together, still resting atop his chest. “Promise me.”

“Of course.” _Anything_.

“You’ll stay no matter what,” Liam squeezes his hand tighter. “You’ll stay tomorrow, and the next day, and —“

“Forever,” Drake promises.

“And…” Liam looks vulnerable, scared even; Drake’s never seen him so utterly unguarded before. “And tonight?”

“What about it?”

“You’ll… stay?”

Drake nods, the blush like a burn on his cheeks. “You’re everything to me too, you know.”

Liam pulls him in, wrapping him in a hug that’s long overdue, tucking in against his shoulder. Drake can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in deep, lets out a shuddery sigh.

“It’s been… things have been…”

“I know, Liam. I know.”

“I feel like I’m always on the edge, and I… I’m _tired_.”

Drake runs a hand slowly through Liam’s hair, tousling his bedhead even further. “I’m not leaving again. I never will, okay?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Liam’s voice is tinged with pain, rough on the ears like splintered wood. “I’m worried that maybe… someone might make that choice _for_ you.”

Drake pulls back just enough to look at him, Liam’s eyes already watery. “Hey — _hey_. Liam, that’s not gonna happen.”

Liam stares back at him, unblinking. “It’s happened before.”

Drake feels like his heart is being suffocated. “ _Liam —_ “

“Sorry, I… I shouldn’t put that on you —“

“No, it’s… I should’ve been here, I should’ve…” he lets out a frustrated sigh, taking Liam’s face in his hands. “You’re the only person who’s ever really _seen_ me. Even Savannah, my mom — they try but they don’t understand. It’s so much work for them, I can tell. But with you… god, Liam, I’d do anything for you.”

“I have enough people to do things for me. Let me do things for _you_.”

“You already have. More than I deserve.”

Liam leans in to him, brushing their lips together so gently it sends a shiver through Drake’s whole body.  “You make me feel safe,” he says, “I just want… I want to make you feel safe too.”

Something flicks on in Drake then — some tiny spark that sets off the static —and suddenly Liam is in his arms and in his mouth and in his soul, a current running between their skin and setting his nerves on fire. He stumbles backwards, one hand coming out to catch himself against the bedpost, the other wrapped around Liam’s waist.

“M’gonna fall,” he laughs, and Liam says, “So do it.”

And when Liam presses him back into the mattress, surrounded by bedding in thread-counts fit for a prince, he knows something between them has changed. He can’t remember the last full breath he took — everything ragged and short as they try to fill up on lost years of each other. He’s intertwined with Liam so closely he can feel his heartbeat like an echo of his own, so filled with love it almost hurts.

“Liam,” he tries to get out in-between frantic, messy kisses, “I wanna — I lo—”

Liam shifts on top of him, and Drake rakes his fingernails in against his back just a little too roughly. “Are you — ah,” he winces briefly, trying to cover it with a smile, “You’re going to leave a mark.”

Drake feels punch-drunk. “Good.”

Now it’s Liam’s turn to blush. “Well, you’re the only one who’s going to see it.”

“I’d better be.”

Liam fists a hand in his hair, leaning him back so he can kiss down the line of his jaw, pausing when he reaches the pulse point to whisper against his skin, “Two can play at that game.”

“Fuck,” Drake bites his lip so hard he tastes blood. “Jesus, Liam — you can’t say shit like that unless —“

“Unless what?” And he looks so innocent like that, gazing up at Drake from beneath his eyelashes, paused above his collarbone. It’s too much, it’s all too much, and Drake’s heart pounds in his chest as the overwhelming fear starts to creep into his veins again: _I love you too much, I need you too much, I want you too much._

“Are you happy?” he asks. “Is this… I mean, is this even going to work? Is this what you want?”

“Of course,” Liam answers, voice soft. “I’m yours.”

And he can’t — he can’t handle that. He pushes himself up on his hands, untangling himself from Liam and folding his legs in, taking a long, deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” Liam looks nervous. “Was that too much? I’m sorry, I just thought —“

“No, no, it wasn’t too much,” Drake runs a hand through his hair, staring at the wall while he tries to collect his thoughts. Looking at Liam now would reduce him to a daydream again. “This is… I mean, what are we doing? You’re a prince, and I’m… a _guy_ , and —“

“So?” Liam says. “It doesn’t have to matter.”

“It kind of does.”

Liam bites his lip, looking down at the ground. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“No!” Drake says too quickly, feeling his face burn when Liam’s mouth quirks up in a smile. “I mean — _fuck_ , Liam. I dreamed about you for years, trust me when I tell you that’s the _last_ thing I want you to think.”

“For years?”

“I — ah.”

“What kind of dreams?” Liam’s smile widens. “Were they good ones?”

“Oh my god, don’t make me —“

Liam crawls back on top of him, pushing him gently back down, kissing along the line of his collarbone where he’d left off before. Drake sucks in a breath, Liam reaching down to undo his belt buckle. “Were they like this?”

“Y-yeah,” Drake closes his eyes, head among the sheets again. “And… more.”

He can feel Liam pulling off his belt, shoving it aside as he kisses along the lines of his stomach. “Was I good?”

“Mhm,” Drake breathes, “but not… not as good as this.”

Liam is back on his lips then, and Drake brings a hand up to thread into his dark hair, lost to his emotions again. And what was he expecting? When it comes to Liam, he’s powerless.

Liam’s lips brush across his temple, whispering against the shell of his ear, “You’re not the only one with dreams, you know.”

“Okay, _fuck_ ,” Drake sits up abruptly, cheeks flushed again. “You’re _killing_ me.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam looks dismayed, all the innocence back in his face. “I’m not sure how to… I’ve never done this before.”

“You think I have?” Drake lets out a shaky breath, trying to get a handle on himself. With Liam looking up at him like that, it’s not working. “You’re my best friend. I don’t know what I’d… if things didn’t work out, if we do something we regret…”

“I’d never regret you.”

“But you…” Drake bites his lip. “Look, I couldn’t handle it if we just pretended this never happened. I can’t do that again.”

Liam is quiet, eyes downcast. He’s spent his whole life pretending, Drake thinks. Maybe that’s all he knows.

“Just give me _something_ , you know? Something to go on here. I’m flying blind in this, Liam.”

Liam nods. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just… right now, I can’t…” He looks over at Drake, the frown lines creasing in his forehead. “Can you give me tonight? I’ll give you tomorrow, I’ll give you every single day after, I just need…” He takes a deep breath. “Tonight, can it just be you and me and none of the baggage?”

Perhaps Liam knows that what he’s asking is impossible, but the look of earnest on his face is too fragile to risk breaking. Drake lies. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” Liam presses a long kiss to his forehead, running one hand through Drake’s hair deliciously slowly. He leans in against Liam’s touch, the knot in his stomach forgotten as warmth spreads down his spine.

When Liam pulls back, there’s an idea sparking in his eyes. “I have something for us.”

Drake raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Liam pushes up from the bed, padding over to his dresser. “I borrowed it from Leo.”

“Borrowed?” Drake leans back on his hands, watching as Liam rummages through his second drawer for a moment. “Does he know about that?”

When he finally pulls out the bottle, holding it up triumphantly, Drake can’t help but smile.

“What the hell is that?” he laughs, as Liam continues his pacing, this time hunting for a glass. “Are you a secret alcoholic now?”

“Just wait!” Liam calls. It’s only a minute before he emerges from his bathroom, holding two disgustingly ornate goblets in one hand, the bottle in the other.

“Are you supposed to drink out of these?” Drake raises an eyebrow as Liam hands him one before sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Definitely not.” He opens the bottle, holding it out towards Drake. “Will you do the honors?”

Drake takes the bottle, fingers brushing against Liam’s, and pours out the amber colored liquid into their glasses. “Are you going to tell me what this is for?”

Liam takes the bottle back from him, setting it down on the hardwood floor by their feet. “It’s this expensive whiskey a visiting noble gave Leo at some state event. _Extremely_ expensive whiskey. It’s supposed to be for special occasions.”

“Whiskey? Come on, I know I went to college, but I’m not _boring_.”

“Don’t let my life of petty crime go to waste, Drake.”

“So you didn’t borrow it after all. Well, I’m not sure I can condone this behavior.”

Liam shoots him an exaggerated frown, and he’s so disarmingly adorable that all opposition dies in Drake immediately.

“Fine. Special occasions, huh?” Drake looks down at the drink. “Looks like every other well drink to me.”

“You don’t _look_ at it,” Liam nudges his shoulder. “You taste it.”

“I imagine it tastes how it looks.” He nudges Liam back.

“Well, I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Just been keeping it cool in your sock drawer?”

“I told you — special occasion.”

Drake pauses, glancing up at Liam for a second before holding up his goblet. “To special occasions, then.”

Liam holds his up too, tapping them gently together. “To special occasions.”

Liam lifts his glass and drinks, making a face as soon as he brings it back down, and Drake suddenly feels a surge of emotion and leans forward, brushing his lips across Liam’s. Liam leans into him, eyes flickering closed for a moment, before Drake pulls back enough to see the gentlest flush spread across his cheeks.

“To us,” Drake says softly, caught up in Liam all over again. He knows he’s in too deep, but he doesn’t care. “To our special occasion.”

“Which is…?” Liam already looks drunk, but it’s definitely not from the whiskey. Drake can’t bring himself to fight anymore, to try and resist the feeling building low in his chest. Liam is now, and he’s real, and he’s  _his_.

“This,” Drake says, dropping his glass to the floor and pulling Liam on top of him, falling back against the bed with a laugh as the liquid in Liam’s cup spills across the two of them. Liam fumbles to set it down somewhere before finally giving up and leaving it to roll off towards the ground as well, hands already tangled up in Drake’s hair. The bed smells like alcohol, the heady rush of it filling their lungs, Liam kissing down along the lines it’s left on Drake’s chest.

He’s afraid again — not of Liam, but of that spark in his eyes, the one that threatens to set them both ablaze. And who’s to say they aren’t already burned? That their childish fireworks are more of a hazard than they could possibly know?

He stares up at the ceiling, a thousand little memories and moments running through his head, a thousand fragments of time all defined by Liam. Maybe he’s been heading towards this shipwreck for years now.

“Hey,” Liam lifts his head, hovers over Drake with his hands on either side of his shoulders. It reminds him of sand and seventeen and falling in love. “Are you… okay?”

“That night, with the boat,” He says, gazing up at Liam. “Why didn’t we ever talk about it? Why didn’t you… I mean, you never said _anything_.”

Liam takes a deep breath, eyes flicking to the side, then back to Drake. “Because I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.” He sighs. “Of… how I felt about you. There are so few people I feel close to. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

Liam smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness. “Let’s not talk about it right now, okay? You’re here, and I just… I want to remember you.”

“No more talking,” Drake agrees, pulling Liam back to him, lips crashing together messy, just like the whiskey-laced bedding. He runs his hands up Liam’s chest, along the muscles of his back, down around the divot in his hips. Liam hums against his lips, a sound both familiar and foreign.

It’s a particular kind of boldness that shoots through him then, fingers toying with Liam’s waistband, just barely daring to scrape the skin underneath.

Liam laughs, sitting up abruptly. “ _Stop_ — stop, I’m ticklish!” When he sees Drake’s silent surprise, he bites his lip in a weak attempt to keep the rest of the laughter at bay. He’s never looked more perfect, and Drake feels such an overwhelming surge of affection for him that for a second, all he can do is drink it in.

Liam is still laughing, reaching up to cover his face with one hand, peeking out at Drake from behind his fingers. “Sorry, I’m sorry —”

“I love you,” Drake says, awestruck.

The laughter dies on Liam’s lips.

“Oh.”

“I —”

“No, it’s okay, it’s —”

“I shouldn’t — I just —”

“Shh,” Liam takes Drake’s face in his hands, leaning back down to him. Drake feels like he’s been stripped raw, vulnerable in a way the two of them have never been together. Liam’s expression has taken on a tenderness that he can feel right down to his bones.

“Drake,” Liam says, “Loving you is as much a part of me as breathing. Don’t you know that by now?”

And this time it’s Liam’s fingers, tracing along the waist of Drake’s jeans, undoing the button just as Drake lets out a quiet sigh, watching Liam with his eyes heavy-lidded.

“I just…”

“Shh,” Liam says again, “You said no talking.”

Drake freezes as Liam’s hand wanders lower. “Are you…?”

“Do you want me to?”

And fuck, he looks like one of those dreams again, the kind that Drake can’t get out of his head for weeks afterwards: eyes dark, hair messy, tongue running across his lower lip. How could one person be so wholly intoxicating?

“No.” Drake can barely get his words out. “I mean — shit — _yes_. God, yes. But not… yet.”

“Oh,” Liam sits back, still straddling Drake. “Sorry — I didn’t mean to —“

Drake pushes himself up and kisses Liam quiet, pulling him close until they’re flush together. “Not yet,” he repeats, hand shaking slightly as he trails his fingertips down Liam’s chest, following the lines of muscle that tense beneath his touch. “Let me.”

“No talking,” Liam breathes, almost trance-like as he watches Drake shift him forward and hook his thumbs into the waistband of his pajamas.

“You can talk if you want,” he answers, leaning in to kiss Liam’s temple before tugging him to the side of the bed and slipping down to the floor, knocking over the bottle of special occasion whiskey in his haste to undress him.

“Shit,” he mumbles, righting the bottle with one hand while the other continues. Liam laughs, still dreamy, kicking his pants off the last ankle and pulling Drake up to kiss him. The liquid pools around his feet, under Drake’s knees, but staying clean is the last thing on their minds.

“Leo’s gonna be so pissed,” Drake murmurs against Liam’s mouth, barely breaking for air.

“Well,” Liam muses, “He did say it was for special occasions.”

Drake laughs, pressing a kiss to Liam’s temple, then along his hairline, breathing in the scent of his skin. “So we should make this special, then.”

Liam leans away, catching Drake’s hand in his, suddenly serious. “You know, that night…” He takes a deep breath, “With the boat.”

“Yeah?”

“I _was_ scared, and I still am, but… I thought about it every day. About you. About… being with you.”

Drake squeezes his hand.

“That’s what I want,” Liam continues, “And I don’t want to end up like…” He bites his lip, and Drake can tell he’s trying to steel himself, to stay strong. “When my mom… after all of that, watching my father… I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be unhappy and afraid all the time, like I’m waiting for bad things to happen when I have good ones right in front of me.”

“I want that too,” Drake says, “After what happened with Dad, when my mom left, everything was just… I don’t want to run away. Not anymore. I want you.”

Liam smiles. “You have me.”

 _Not all of you_ , Drake thinks. _Not yet._

He never does drink the stolen whiskey that night, but he couldn’t possibly forget the taste of it: the sting of its flavor in Liam’s mouth, the scent of it spilled across the sheets, the burn it leaves in the back of his throat.

For years later it will remind him of this, the two of them brought together before they knew anything of being pulled apart, their bodies drunk with each other, Liam’s head nestled in against his neck like the click of a locking door.

Afterwards, his fingers running absently through Liam’s hair, he feels Liam murmur into his skin, “I love you.”

He’s never known anything sweeter.


End file.
